


With All My Heart

by WhoStarLocked



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Parents, Clint Barton Feels, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Deaf Clint Barton, Gen, Grandparents & Grandchildren, Harold Barton's A+ Parenting, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Parent Peggy Carter, Protective Tony Stark, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tony Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22393690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoStarLocked/pseuds/WhoStarLocked
Summary: Steve knew he shouldn’t, but it didn’t stop him from wandering over to the armchair Clint favoured, and picking up the picture. He sighed. This made him no better than Tony, really. After all the arguments he’d had with Tony about spying and meddling through JARVIS, and yet here Steve was, about to pry into Clint’s private life.He resolved to move it to the table, so that Clint would find it straight away when he was back, and then not look, or ask questions, but when he turned it over, he couldn’t at all fathom what he was looking at.It was Peggy.
Relationships: Grandfather Steve Rogers - Relationship, Grandson Clint Barton, Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Comments: 2
Kudos: 46





	With All My Heart

After the battle of New York, Steve and practically everyone else had been badgered by Tony to move into the former Stark Tower. It wasn’t like Steve could complain, as he hadn’t anywhere else to go, but it felt uncomfortably modern. He’d always pictured the future being not so different from what he remembered, but everything was just so decadent and luxurious. The white floors and soft couches, it all felt wrong. Despite all this Steve enjoyed living with his teammates. He’d befriended all of them except Clint. The archer spent the majority of his time sitting morosely in one of the brown armchairs looking closely at a photograph. It seemed very important to Clint and for some reason Steve felt the urge to look at it. Maybe it was because he wanted to see how pictures had changed in the last 67 years, or maybe because he just wanted to get to know all his teammates better. 

With Natasha away on a mission, Clint barely spoke to anyone. Steve had blossoming friendships with the rest of the team, but Clint seemed to have set boundaries for all of them. He always politely declined invitations to join them, whether it was for gym training, dinner, or watching a movie. Steve was at a complete loss at trying to connect with the younger man.

In hindsight, that’s probably what made Steve look at the picture. Clint had disappeared from the living room hours ago, and he’d left the picture. Steve got an uneasy feeling that something was wrong, because Clint never left the picture behind. It was always slipped into a pocket or into his wallet when he left the communal area. JARVIS hadn’t left any messages, although Steve hadn’t really been expecting one. Clint wouldn’t even talk to them, why would he feel the need to tell them where he’d gone?

Steve knew he shouldn’t, but it didn’t stop him from wandering over to the armchair Clint favoured, and picking up the picture. He sighed. This made him no better than Tony, really. After all the arguments he’d had with Tony about spying and meddling through JARVIS, and yet here Steve was, about to pry into Clint’s private life.

He resolved to move it to the table, so that Clint would find it straight away when he was back, and then not look, or ask questions, but when he turned it over, he couldn’t at all fathom what he was looking at.

It was Peggy.

He’d never seen her like that, but it was unmistakably her. Steve felt an overwhelming sense of loss, and he put the picture down, wishing he’d never looked. She had two boys with her in the picture, one standing by her with a begrudging smile, the other, obviously younger, sat on her lap, and was beaming up at her, smiling so wide it was obvious even though his face was side on. Peggy was older than Steve had ever seen her, but she still looked stunning. She was lovingly watching the child on her knee, the smile that Steve had fallen in love with curving her lips. She looked so familiar, and so different.

Steve had heard that she’d had a family, after he went under, and suddenly, he began to wonder why Clint had this photo in his possession. Steve sighed again, and leant down to put it on the table.

“Cap.”

Steve whirled, heart pounding a mile a minute as he automatically fell into a fighting stance, only to realise it was only Clint. Steve let out a huge breath he hadn’t realised he was holding and relaxed his stance.

“Clint,” He gave the other man a rueful grin. “I didn’t hear you.”

“Obviously.” Clint replied in a monotone. He looked awful, Steve noted. His face was paler than it had been, and there were deep purple bags under his eyes. Steve wondered when the man had last slept.

“May I have my photo back?” Clint continued, looking pointedly at the picture that he was still holding.

Steve felt blood rush to his face as he realised he’d been caught prying, and he handed it back with a embarrassed smile.

“Sorry, I was just, uh, just moving it so it wouldn’t get lost.” Steve stammered. “But then I saw it was Peggy, and I…” He trailed off, uncertain how to explain the crushing sense of grief seeing her had induced.

When he looked up again, expecting anger, Clint’s face looked grey. His mouth hung open slightly, and he was beginning to tremble.

“Hey, Clint, are you alright?” Steve asked, confusion at the photo pushed aside at the sight of his teammate. “You look ill.”

“Fine, I’m fine.” Clint answered, but he sounded dazed. “It’s just that I just realised that you’re my grandfather.”

All coherent thought flew out of Steve’s mind, and by the time he’d pulled himself together enough to ask what the hell Clint meant, he’d gone.

Steve was alone in the living room.

* * *

He didn’t see Clint again until dinner. Tony had, apparently, bullied him into joining them for once, but all Clint did was glare murderously at Steve over the table.

Steve took the hint, and kept what little conversation there was focused on events, technologies and films he had to catch up with.

But, as Clint got up to wash his plate, Steve called.

“Hey, can I have a word, please?”

Even as Steve pointedly walked away to the living room, he heard Clint sigh.

“Oooh, bird-brain’s in trouble!” Tony sing-songed gleefully, and Steve smirked to himself when a second later there was a thump and the genius let out a cry of pain.

Clint stood opposite him, and stared sullenly at the ground. Steve gave the others still gathered at the table a sharp look, and Bruce took his cue and left, taking Thor with him. Tony walked over hesitantly, trying and failing to catch Clint’s eye.

“Do you want me here for this?” He asked quietly, and Steve had never heard him sound so serious.

Clint gave a brisk nod, so Steve decided not to push the issue.

“So, care to explain what you said earlier?” Steve asked, trying to keep a light tone and failing.

Clint snorted. “You need me to explain basic relations?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

“I do when you suddenly claim that I’m your grandfather!” Steve returned hotly. “You’re missing a damn generation there, and it’s a pretty key generation, considering I don’t even have a kid. How the hell could I possibly be a grandfather?”

Clint looked up sharply at that and met his gaze.

“Did no one tell you?” He asked quietly, all his earlier derision gone.

“Tell me what?” Steve asked, his anger fading too.

“You left Peggy pregnant.” Tony said gently, and Steve turned to him.

“What?” Steve felt numb. He couldn’t focus, his mind rushing, trying and failing to comprehend that he had a child out there somewhere. That, had he not been frozen, he would’ve been a father.

Tony simply nodded at him, smiling sympathetically.

“You had a daughter.” Clint mumbled. “Edith. Peggy raised her, but…” He trailed off, wrapping his arms around his torso like he was trying to stave off the cold.

“She grew up constantly being compared to you, by most people. She hated it.” Tony said, expertly taking over. “She got so resentful she wouldn’t ever listen to reason, whether it came from Peggy, or her own friends. Then she married-”

“My father.” Clint cut back in. “Against everyone’s better judgement.”

“What’s so bad about-” Steve began, only to be cut off.

“He was abusive.” Clint’s voice was distant. He sounded pained. “To all of us. By the time I was born she’d given up trying to protect anyone except herself. And her preferred method of self-defence was to get blind drunk and encourage him to beat us, instead.” Clint sniffed, finally meeting Steve’s gaze.

“Peggy was furious when she found out.” Tony added gently.

Steve asked. He felt completely numb, hollowed out trying to understand how someone raised by such a good person as Peggy could turn out to be abusive to her own son.

“What happened?”

* * *

27 years ago

The sun was almost blinding as it beat down on the corn fields that stretched almost as far as the eye could see. The buildings that were visible on the horizon seemed to shimmer as Peggy contemplated them.

She was already regretting wearing a blazer.

In front of her, an unkempt verandah wrapped around the corner of the house she faced. A crumbling farmhouse had never been so intimidating for her. She let out a small breath.

Next to her, Edwin Jarvis hummed with distaste as he too took in the disarray.

“Not exactly top notch.” He mumbled, casting a sideways glance at Peggy.

“Not exactly what I imagined, no.” She answered, eyes still stuck on the faded white paint of the door. Edwin politely didn’t mention the tremble in her voice.

“Still, we can’t judge a book by the cover.”

Peggy smiled weakly. “Do you think she wants to see me?”

“Miss Carter, I do believe you’re stalling.” Edwin placed a hand on her shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. “I am sure that whatever happens in the next ten minutes, you will handle it with the grace and poise with which you handle everything.”

“Thank you, mister Jarvis.” She said, turning to smile at him. Then, she steeled herself and walked up the verandah to the stairs. She took one last moment to smooth her blazer down and sweep back her hair before she knocked on the door.

For a moment, nothing happened, but then Peggy caught a movement in the front window and the door opened a peek, but immediately shut again. Another few seconds passed before a slurred voice inside yelled:

“You said you got that on tick, you lying hound!”

There was a gasp, and a few thuds and the door swung open again.

“Whaddaya want, lady?”

Peggy forced herself to smile at the plump, balding menace in front of her.

“Good afternoon, Harold, isn’t it? I’d like to see Edith.” 

“The fuck are you?” He grunted in response.

“Her mother.” Peggy answered flatly.

From within the front room of the house, she glimpsed Edith perched on an armchair, cradling the side of her face. Peggy felt heat curl through her gut as she subconsciously made a fist with her right hand.

“That prissy English bitch that she ran away to avoid?” Harold sneered.

“That would be me.” She ground out.

“Is... is that our grandmother then?” a voice asked inside. “Can we meet her?”

“What? No! You ain’t meeting her, get back in the kitchen!” Edith hissed out, reaching out a hand and roughly shoving the child who’d spoken.

“Don’t think she wants to see ya.” Harold drawled. As he stepped back to shut the door, a second child appeared behind him. The boy didn’t see Harold in his path until it was too late, he walked straight in to Harold and stumbled back, tripping and hitting the floor.

Before Peggy could blink, Harold rounded on the boy and sent a booted foot into his midsection.

“Watch where you’re going, you stupid little-”

Peggy grabbed Harold’s wrist as he went to hit the boy again.

“Lay so much as a finger on him, and you will regret it.”

Harold glared at her and began to try and twist away, but Peggy’s grip was like a vice, and after a moment, he gave up.

From the floor, the boy regarded her with wide eyes. 

Peggy released her grip on Harold, and extended her hand to the boy, who flinched.

Rather than the explosive anger that Peggy was expecting, she felt numb. But she knew what she had to do.

She gently wrapped a hand around the boy’s wrist and pulled him up, taking his weight easily until he found his feet. Wide blue eyes settled on her face, and she smiled, albeit grimly.

She turned to face Harold, eyeing him with disgust. Edith looked over from the doorway to the main room. The side of her face was already starting to bruise.

“You let him treat you like this? Treat your children like this?” Peggy demanded, glaring at her daughter.

Edith sneered. “Stay outta my life, mom. No one invited you here.”

Ah, there was the rage.

“No, and I shan’t be coming back. You, you chose this – over your friends, over your job, over me. Everyone warned you that this was how you’d end up, but did you listen? No, you went ahead and chose this. Your children didn’t!”

Edith sighed, looking away.

“Go ahead and judge me, mom. You won’t do anything ‘cept waste your breath.”

Peggy had to bite back the scathing remarks that came to mind.

“Where’s the other kid?” She asked instead.

A boy appeared behind Edith. Ginger hair shadowed his eyes as he stared at Peggy sullenly.

“What’re you playing at?” Edith demanded suddenly. Peggy ignored her.

“Hello, I’m Peggy. What’s your name?” She asked.

The boy side-eyed both his parents before his gaze resettled on her.

“Barney.” He murmured.

Peggy gave him a smile. “Barney, go upstairs, pack yours and your brother’s things. You won’t be coming back.” 

Harold moved to block the boy’s path. “Now you don’t got any right, lady!”

“I suppose you’re going to tell me that you love them, that you’ll miss them. That your parenting will be better for them than mine?” She glared at him. Barney slipped up the stairs silently.

“It don’t give you no-”

“What are we gonna do, Harold? Go to the cops?” Edith cut in.

“You gonna let her haul off with your damn kids?”

“You’re going to pretend you see them as anything more than a burden?” Peggy asked, sarcasm colouring her tone.

“You listen here!” Harold all but yelled, attempting to drag the boy back towards him. “They’re my kids, and they’re staying with me!”

Peggy regarded him calmly.

“If you can stop me taking them to that car,” She replied sternly, indicating the car where Edwin was waiting. “Then I will leave them here with you.”

Harold sneered, drawing back his arm. As he lurched forwards, Peggy ducked, and lashed out with one leg. It landed solidly in Harold’s midsection, and he stumbled away, winded. She glanced down, straightening her jacket, and noticed the young boy shaking slightly. There were tears on his cheeks. Glaring at her daughter, she picked him up and settled him against her chest.

Barney was hesitating on the steps, clutching two bags. They weren’t even full. Peggy held one hand out towards him.

“Come on, Barney. We’re leaving.” She forced a smile onto her face, though she was still itching to lay into Harold properly.

“Don’t you move, boy!” The man wheezed, trying to block Barney’s path to the exit.

In the face of his father’s wrath, Barney hesitated momentarily, before scowling and continuing towards Peggy. Harold watched with growing outrage as his eldest son moved past them and made his way out onto the veranda.

“Goodbye, Edith, Harold.” She intoned before taking her own leave. She made sure to slam the door behind her.

With her free hand, she gently ushered Barney towards the car with her.

“Are you sure that’s everything?” She asked. He merely nodded in response, his eyes focussed on Edwin.

“And who might these be, miss Carter?” He asked as they approached the car. Peggy opened the back seat door, and waited for Barney to clamber in before settling the youngster next to him. Taking her cue, Edwin hurried to start the car as Peggy made her way to the front seat.

“Apparently, my grandsons, Edwin. Home, please.”

Edwin did as she asked without question.

“What are your names, then, boys?” He asked, glancing at the children in the rear view mirror.

“Barney and Clint.” Barney replied. His tone was hesitant. “Are you our grandfather, mister?”

“Oh, heavens no!” Edwin chuckled. “No, I’m just a good friend of miss Carter’s.”

“Barney, this is Edwin Jarvis.” She turned in her seat to smile at the boy. “I worked with him for many years. You can trust him.”

Barney didn’t respond to her assessment.

“Where’re we goin’?”

Peggy almost startled at the slurred question. Clint wasn’t looking at her, though. He was watching the world as they drove by.

“Clint!” Barney hissed. He leant across the middle seat and hit Clint’s shoulder. When Clint turned to look at him, Barney continued. “Talk properly, remember?”

Clint looked to the floor of the car.

“Sorry.” He whispered so lowly it was barely audible over the engine.

Peggy frowned, pondering over the interaction between the brothers.

“He can talk properly, he just forgets sometimes, is all. Please don’t get mad at him, miss.” Barney told her, his tone suddenly pleading.

“Please call me Peggy.” She corrected automatically. “And I won’t get mad at him. At either of you, for that matter.” She regarded the youngest brother for another moment. “We’re going to New York, Clint.”

Barney once again leaned over. This time, he tugged Clint’s sleeve. Once Clint’s attention was on him, Barney repeated slowly.

“New York.”

Clint frowned, but didn’t reply, instead turning his attention back to the window.

“Miss Peggy, you gotta talk slow for him, and make sure he’s looking at you. Don’t stand a chance otherwise.”

“Oh, is the poor blighter deaf?” Jarvis asked.

Barney hesitated, glancing between Peggy and Clint before answering.

“Well... I don’t know. He hit his head three years ago, and since then he doesn’t hear so well, or talk clear, but father always said it’s because he’s retarded.”

Peggy felt anger stir in her chest. She turned away for a moment, determined not to lose this tentative trust she’d won from Barney.

“I can take him to a doctor once we get to New York.” Peggy answered quietly, unable to bring herself to face her two grandchildren again.

The rest of the car ride was silent.


End file.
